


A Love the Law Can't Handle

by notyrbitch



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Its 1968, M/M, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), censored racial slurs, chicano batman, im gonna have so much fun with this, keith is shiro's son, lance and keith are nine, lance and keith havin the cutest friendship ever, lance is allura's son, lounge singer allura, shallura - Freeform, the scandal ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyrbitch/pseuds/notyrbitch
Summary: Lawyer and single father Takashi Shirogane wasn't prepared for two things in his life:One, meeting the most beautiful woman in the world at a bar.Two, realizing she's his assigned client who allegedly murdered another woman.Law student and activist Allura Sanchez knew two things for sure:One, she did not kill anyone, nor did she ever plan on doing so.Two, she was not going to let this case derail her and her son's life.But both Takashi and Allura both agreed on one thing: they'd both be willing to break the rules to give each other the happiness they'd looked for for so long.





	A Love the Law Can't Handle

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! this is just a lil fanfic i'm writing— I plan for this to be pretty short because I'm still working on my other fic so !! Anyway, I just want to say that there will be racial slurs used in this fic, but I feel uncomfortable typing the words out so I'll censor them. Anyways, enjoy !!

January 28, 1968. 

"Shiro you can't make me go!" Keith screamed.  
"I can, and oh, look! I did!" His father told him using a sarcastic tone, ruffling his son's long black hair, "You know you can't go to work with me."  
"I can, you just don't wanna take me."  
"Mister Shirogane, sometimes even I don't understand how you let your son speak to you like that." One of Keith's teachers said as she casually leaned on the doorway with her floral dress swaying in the stale winter wind. She had her arms crossed, and ruffled Keith's hair as he ran into the classroom with a sour look on his face.  
"I've got about a decade more to live with him, might as well let him get it all out of his system right now." He chuckled lightly as the teacher laughed.  
"Lot of work today?"  
"More than usual. I've just got a new case." Shiro sighed, "A protestor."  
"Oohh, should be interesting, Mister. Right up your alley." She said sarcastically.  
Shiro wasn't the kind of man who prowled for interesting cases. He never looked for trouble. His emotions never failed him. He was calm, collected, and unbothered. What most people in the neighborhood would consider dry.  
Shiro scoffed, "I'll see you later."  
"Good luck!"  
He left and climbed into his 1967 Chevrolet Impala without another word and turned the radio on.  
"Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name. Hello, I love you let me jump in your game..." The Doors poured through the radio. He kind of rolled his eyes, he found the song rather tasteless. He drove down Pilsen heading to Wicker Park. The neighborhoods where he worked were mostly Latino based, and because of that he was confident enough to say that he was fluent in Spanish. He couldn't help but have that little accent in his words, though. The towns were relatively small. Right now, anyway. It was almost the 70's, and with a new decade came immediate change. He'd noticed this on the radio when old songs from Shelley Fabares began to turn into quick tunes now sung from The Rolling Stones.  
Shiro slowed his car as he approached his usual coffee shop. He got out and adjusted his tie and stepped inside.  
It was pretty lonely this early in the morning, and he was glad to find his usual friend at the cash register. He looked up when Shiro stepped up.  
"Good morning, Hunk." Said Shiro.  
"Hey!" Hunk greeted him enthusiastically, "The usual?"  
"Yes, please. One more shot of expresso this morning, if that's not too much to ask."  
"No, sir. That's my job." Hunk grinned, "Tough morning?"  
"Tough night. New case."  
"So i've heard. Protestor, right?"  
"Yes. A little worse because this time i was appointed the case. I think it's safe to say i'll be busy for a while."  
Hunk talked as he prepared Shiro's coffee, "Well, I'm glad youre doing this. The whole county praises you. Youre the only minority with the law, you're the only one who can help us out."  
Shiro didn't like these words. He never understood praise. He was simply doing what he thought was right. Martin Luther King was doing his absolute best to ensure equality, and Shiro felt the need to help. That's perhaps why he persisted to be a lawyer in such a diverse city. He practically begged for all the cases with People of Color. Whether they were Civil Rights protestors, illegal immigrants, threatened, victims of abuse, he gave them the justice they deserved, because minorities couldn't have much of it these days. He is the only Japanese American lawyer in the Chicagoland Area, and the burden he carries is great. He's perhaps the lawyer in most demand from the city, and he'll gladly take these cases.  
That was the thing, though. They went quickly. His cases will come and go as quickly as they'd arise. That went to show how unjust the system really was. It made him remember what he'd overheard a couple of the people at an old jury say, "The darker the skin, the darker the punishment." Or they could've just said: white people are always right.  
That was 1968 for you.  
"Shiro?"  
His eyes snapped up, "I'm sorry. I'm so out of it today." He smiled nervously as he began to take his wallet out.  
"Hey, no, I'll take care of it." Hunk said.  
"No, really, I'll—"  
"I'll pay for it if you do a favor for me."  
"I'll still pay you and do the favor."  
"Why are you so stubborn?"  
Shiro chuckled, "How do you think I got where I am? Tell me you favor."  
"Come out with me tonight, it's a really nice lounge. I want you to see something." Hunk said.  
"Okay, you literally could not have made that sound more sketchy."  
Hunk rolled his eyes as Shiro suppressed a laugh, "Fine. There's someone I want you to meet."  
"Oh...?" Shiro thought of it and let the words settle, "Oh, Hunk. Thank you, but i'm too busy for a relationship... I've got my boy and—"  
"Then simply come for a drink. The least you could do for yourself, the bottom of your eyes get darker each day. You need to unwind a little. After all, it's Friday." Hunk sang.  
The man let himself think for a minute then sighed in defeat. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone out for a drink, "Alright. Sure. Will Shay be there?"  
"Yep, she will."  
"Alright, goodbye. Thank you. Give me a ring so you can pick me up."  
"Will do." Hunk said, completely oblivious to when Shiro grabbed his coffee and dropped the money for his coffee.  
-  
Shiro was in the back of of Hunk's old car, looking at the city pass by while him and Shay talked enthusiastically about a new record store that'd opened downtown.  
"Buddy, my man," Hunk took a hand off the steering wheel and reached back to grip Shiro's knee, "Stop thinking about work."  
"I know how you feel." Said Shay as she made a big bubble with her bubblegum then popped it, "My nursing job is taking a toll on me, too. But come on, you gotta relax a little. Not healthy to be working all the time, Shiro."  
"You're right, I'm sorry, I just can't keep my mind off of it. Did you know this girl is getting trailed for murder? And it isn't adding up. She didn't even show up today for the appointment arranged."  
"Damn. Sounds tough, but knowing you, I'm sure you'll get her out of it." Said the Samoan boy, "Murder isn't a cute thing to get accused of, I think she has the right to have missed that appointment."  
"So do I, I think I'd even call her in next week if I could, but the man who reported the crime simply can't wait. The judge and some of the members aren't willing to wait either. With cases like these, you know they already have their minds made up ten minutes before a trial." He sighed.  
"Well, it's a good thing you won't have to be thinking about all of this in a bit." Shay tried to reassure him.  
"You don't know that."  
"Guess we'll have to get you blacked-out drunk then?" Hunk joked.  
Shiro chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes as Hunk parked the car in an empty spot in Lincoln Park. They all climbed out of the car and Shiro asked, "How'd you two even find this place?"  
"We were looking for a new malt shop then we came across the lounge. It was underground so we thought it was a little weird." Shay shrugged.  
"How do you go into an underground lounge, which I'm guessing has pretty dim lighting, and expect it to be a preppy malt shop?" Shiro asked with an amused smile.  
"New style?" Hunk grinned as he draped an arm around Shay's shoulders. They'd been together for four years now, and Shiro hated to admit that he never really felt lonely until he saw them show affectionate gestures like that. He never let those feelings interfere with how he handled himself, though. It was impossible for Shiro to ever show any hostility, and he'd be lying if he hadn't stayed up wondering how Keith had turned out so different. He knew that if the telephone rang anywhere from ten in the morning to two in the afternoon , his son had gotten in a fight.  
"But Shiro!" He recalled what the black haired nine year old had whined about, "He kept saying the neighborhood was dirty, and all the people who lived in it! That's not true, that's—"  
"Keith," He's sighed, crouching down as he put a hand on his shoulder, "He doesn't get it. He'll understand soon, but he doesn't right now. And that's not his fault, and you're not educating him or teaching him anything by using your fists."  
His son was angry for the rest of the afternoon, but was back to his childlike and carefree attitude when Shiro let Keith eat his cereal from a cup instead of a bowl that night. He'd never understand why that made him so happy.  
"Woah, where you going?" Hunk suddenly said behind Shiro, "This way."  
Shiro turned to see Shay descending down a stairwell in between two closed shops.  
"Sorry, sorry. I got a little distracted."  
"No worries." Said Hunk as he followed Shiro down the steps. There were only about six steps to reach the door that was to the right of the final stair. It suddenly got cold and his suit jacket wasn't doing much to keep him warm. He held the door open for Hunk as he stepped inside and they began to walk down a long corridor before approaching another glass door that gave off purple and blueish and orange light from the other side.  
"Look your best, Takashi," Shay winked as she opened the door and soft music flooded into their ears. As they walked to a tall table, he noticed that these people didn't stare at them oddly when they stepped inside, and that was because these were mostly people of color, and all the white people didn't even bat an eye. There were people of different tones, laughing and talking without a worry in the world as the ice in the glasses clinked.  
"Cool, right?" Hunk grinned.  
"Yeah..." Shiro examined the lounge a little better. It was rather small, but it was cozy and warm, and they were facing a stage that had a drum set, a keyboard, an electric guitar on a stand, and a mic.  
"Hello," Said a latina woman in a striped minidress, "Anything I can get you?"  
"Two Jameson's and a Colt." Said Shay. They'd been going out for so long for so many years that she knew what Hunk and Shiro liked to drink like the back of he hand.  
"I'll be back." Said the woman with a warm smile as she proceeded to leave.  
The soft music coming from an amplified radio was enough to nearly put him to sleep as Shay and Hunk spoke excitedly.  
He was sent back to the present when glasses lightly clinked on the table and Shay left a bill for the woman, "Enjoy." She said politely and walked away.  
The three of them engaged in light chatter until the lights dimmed a little more and conversations died out and all eyes went to the little stage.  
A girl with straight black hair that pooled around her shoulders that wore a a bright orange shirt that stuck to her big body with jeans skinny at the thigh with a dramatic flare towards her calves walked to the drums and sat behind them, getting comfortable. She was very beautiful— she was bigger around the middle and her cheekbones were sharp and her eyes twinkled with excitement.  
Then two girls walked up to the stage. One looking almost child-like, with short orange hair with pants that were almost like trousers, but brought out her hips and shape of her legs by sticking to her waist, whole wearing a cashmere shirt tucked into her pants with a cute old-fashioned white collar. She stepped behind the keyboard and began to crack her fingers.  
The next woman wore something scandalous — the biggest controversial item of the decade— a miniskirt. Her miniskirt was latex and black and was about mid-thigh and straight, but like the orange-haired girl's, was pinched at the waist to give her a curvier figure. She wore a black belt with a big silver buckle that could possibly have only been found in the mens section of a store, and a white shirt tucked in, sticking to the curve of her breasts and small waist. Her curly white hair came to the top of her neck— a big contrast to her skin that was brown and full of life. Her heavy combat boots echoed around the room as she walked and put her guitar strap on so that she cradled it comfortably. She didn't smile until she cleared her throat, and God, was it like seeing the sky for the first time.  
The white-haired girl nodded to her orange-haired friend, then her to the black-haired girl on the drums.  
First the drums, then the guitar, then the keyboard all came to work to make a preppy and happy beat that reminded Shiro of the sun and oranges and ocean and the West Coast. He'd never even been to the West Coast.  
The girl began singing into the mic and her voice made his breath hitch in his throat; it was stunning. She sang with soul and happiness and a peacefulness that made his muscles relax.  
"Light shining, on pomegranate trees shining on you, shining on me.  
Making love and all things with smiles on our faces hoping on one gets home..." He even saw her face soften as she sang, noticing how her shoulders lost their tension and she sang with a little smile on her face with her eyes closed. It was remarkable. She sang like a waterfall, refreshing, cool, soft— the sound of her voice was like stepping into a refreshing pond and not helping but smile at the sensation of water wrapping over your skin all over again. Her fingers caressed her guitar like one might touch silk, but played with a confidence and shamelessness that could make Jimi Hendrix cry.  
Then she opened her eyes and looked at the orange stage light as her voice took on a much more nostalgic and gentle tone, "And my people that I long for, waiting here on the west side..."  
She looked ahead then started grinning and the drums got quicker and her guitar began speeding up and she began the chorus.  
"Waiting for time to pass, waiting to hitch a ride on inspiration.  
A breeze of energy that wills god to meet one, a place of peace, a place where love, baseless, nurturing fruit in the desert.  
Baseless, nurturing fruit..."  
As she sang, she did a cute little dance behind her guitar as she played it, where her pelvis grazed the back of her electric guitar with every provocative little hip roll.  
That snapped Shiro out of his trance.  
"So, Hunk," He cleared his throat, his voice sounding a little high to him in his ears, so he took his malt as if it were a shot to snap him back to reality. It only slightly worked. Hunk turned to look at him as Shay kept her eyes full of admiration on the stage. "Where's the girl you wanted me to meet?"  
Hunk smiled and motioned to the girl singing with his head, keeping his eyes on Shiro, "That's her."  
The poor man didn't know wether to laugh or scream. "I..."  
Hunk waited for his friend's response, not able to hide his anticipation very well, "I...?"  
Shiro slammed his hand on the table, attracting the eyes of those from the table next to theirs, but it was only for a second because their eyes immediately snapped back to the stage.  
"I want to marry her."  
Shay spit her drink back into her glass and Hunk's face went completely blank, but Shiro's eyes stared straight ahead in determination. He seemed almost childlike.  
Shay and Hunk tried reasoning, "Buddy, you just met her..."  
"You can't just say that, I mean, what if she doesn't like Doctor Who?"  
"What am I saying, you haven't even spoken to her!"  
"Oh, what if—"  
"Don't you both know her?" Shiro raised an eyebrow.  
"Yes..." Hunk said, "But..."  
"But...?"  
Shay interrupted him, "But nothing. We met her a couple of weeks ago and we thought you two would get along pretty well. But, wow, Shiro, the last time I saw you this dedicated was when you were trying to become a lawyer in the courthouse."  
He gave her a confused look, "My job requires my utmost dedication every day."  
"Sure, but," She looked at him dead in the eye, which intimidated him a little but showed no sign of it, and then Shay's face cracked a big smile, "You never get a little twinkle in your eyes like that every day."  
He frowned and patted down his unusual haircut that fell in his face, "Those are just the lights."  
"There weren't any lights in that courtroom two years ago."  
He was speechless.  
He was came back to Earth when he saw a dark hand appear on the edge of the table. He looked up and saw the white haired singer. He hadn't even realized the song had ended.  
"Hey!" Hunk casually greeted her. Shiro felt a jealous pang in his chest, how could he just talk to her so confidently?  
"Hi, Hunk! How are you! Shay, always a pleasure." The girl gave them a little squeeze with a smile.  
The Samoan buy grinned, "I'd like to present you to each other, S—"  
"Hey!" The orange hair girl yelled as the white haired darker girl turned around and caught the water bottle flying her way.  
"Thanks, Pidge." She smiled as the orange haired girl came to join in on their conversation. "Oh, how rude of me! This is Pidge, basically a twenty three year old Albert Einstein."  
"Oh please," Pidge rolled her eyes playfully, "I only did your taxes once."  
They all laughed.  
"I like your haircut." The white haired girl told Shiro, smiling, "Not a style you see very often. Were you in the military?"  
"No, no. Someone pulled a prank on me and I was kind of forced to cut it like this." Shiro laugher nervously as he tried to hide the blush in his cheeks, "That's actually the first time anyone's complimented it. Thank you."  
The white haired girl's eyes twinkled when she looked at him, "Well then I'm glad I'm the first. What kind of friends are Hunk and Shay to not at least try to compliment your hair?"  
Hunk rolled his eyes, "Here he goes..."  
"Not very good ones, in fact, they called me a skunk for a couple of weeks because of the whitening hair at the top."  
She giggled and Pidge, Hunk, and Shay laughed.  
"Again, we're sorry, it's just..." Shay got cut off by her own laughter, "The resemblance is uncanny."  
"Oye, vienen?" The drummer girl called from the stage.  
"Si, ya vamos!" The white haired girl called back and turned to Pidge, "Come on." She turned back to the others, "If you'll excuse us, we've got a show." She grinned.  
"Good luck, love!" Shay called after her as Hunk whooped and Shiro smiled dreamily at her as her white hair bounced as she turned back around after waving at them.  
And then the night went on.  
The girls performed smoothly with emotion and in a state of euphoria. Some songs were in Spanish, and Shiro was proud to say he could understand most of what she was saying. Things about a love so strong and warm surviving a long, harsh winter...  
When the show was over, Pidge and the drummer girl all began to pack up their things and had dismissed the white haired to go talk to the others sitting at the table. She refused the first few times but gave up when Pidge said whenever she bent down people could see her behind.  
"Good," She'd said and winked, "They're seeing the seeing the second part of the show."  
Pidge rolled her eyes and she scoffed, "Fine. Anyway, the man over there seems pretty handsome, doesn't he?" They discreetly looked at Shiro, who talked to her two other friends casually and laughed softly occasionally.  
"Sure, but he looks like an educated calm man who enjoys reading before bed." Pidge said, organizing her keyboard into a bag.  
"And what, I'm not an educated person who enjoys reading before bed?" She scoffed.  
"With that skirt, oh, girl," The drummer chuckled, "Not a chance."  
"Ash, no creen en mi. The criticism I receive from you two— unbelievable! But Esperanza, you agreed this skirt is cute!" The white haired girl protested as she took her guitar off the stand.  
"It's cute, yes, but with a man like that? You're in two different worlds. I'll root for you two, but girl, he looks so... put together. Like, too serious, I mean." Said Esperanza.  
"That kind of just..." The white haired girl looked up to examine once again the man she'd met a couple of hours ago, and saw something entirely different than what her friends saw. She saw a man waiting for a chance, a man who hadn't been shaken in years, a man in a routine so common it was starting to wear him down. "Makes me more curious."  
"That's why you should listen to us and go talk to him!" Pidge took the guitar from her friend, "You're slowing us down, for one, and make sure you get his digits! Go!"  
She found herself getting nervous at that, looking at him from a distance seemed a little more safer... but she reminded herself that the worst couldn't happen because he was not racist.  
She stepped off the stage and greeted them again, trying to get closer to the tall, handsome man she just met. Shay and Hunk were very occupied with their own conversations with two other people she didn't recognize.  
"You were amazing. You have a very unique voice. You're ahead of the decade." Shiro greeted her.  
"Why, thank you. I'm glad you noticed." She smiled warmly at him, "It's more of a desert-ish kind of sound. A latin one, to be exact. I like to stick to my roots."  
"I really liked that. It's nice that you involve your culture in your singing."  
Oh my God, he's so... good. The white haired girl couldnt comprehend how he was still single... wait, was he?  
She cleared her throat, "You didn't come here with your girl?"  
"My girl...? Oh. Oh, no. I don't have one." He chuckled nervously, "My job kind of keeps me from... uh..."  
"Looking." She finished for him.  
"That."  
"I get it. Same here, I'm a student at Loyola. And with me being colored and all, if I want to keep staying there I'd promised the director I'd get anything higher that a 95%."  
"Oh my God, that's nerve racking."  
"I know," She sighed, "But i'm almost done. Just one more year."  
"How old are you?"  
"I'm twenty four."  
"You look much younger."  
They both chuckled, "Oh, stop it." She grinned as she blushed, "You look incredibly young for your thirties, as well."  
"Thirties? Oh, how insulting," He teased, "I'm twenty-five."  
"What!" The white haired girl exclaimed in surprise, "What!!!"  
He laughed at her reaction.  
"You're twenty five? What do you do?"  
"I'm a lawyer."  
"No! Really? That's what I'm studying!" She was so excited. So excited it was almost childlike. He smile got wider and her eyes got bigger and brighter. She was beautiful.  
"What a coincidence." He smiled, "I was one of seven people who finished law school, I started with thirty classmates. I'm happy you've stuck around this long. It's a hard profession. You're very tough. It's admirable."  
That made her heart stop. Because if there was one thing men were afraid of and despised, it was a woman who was strong, who was educated, and the hatred went on if she was black.  
"Oh, it's nothing," She chuckled nervously, hoping the he couldnt see how flustered she really was. "Just... doing my best. But enough about me, how selfish of me to pull the attention to myself, I'm sorry."  
"No," Shiro smiled warmly at her, a smile that made her heart race in her chest and made her entire body feel hot, "I like it when you talk about things you like. It's cute."  
Oh my God, could you have sounded any more weirder?! Shiro kept yelling at himself internally, but the white haired girl's heart was literally jumping off the walls.  
She started, "I—"  
"Hey!" Pidge yelled and interrupted her and the drummer girl carried their stuff out of a back door, "Let's go! The house awaits!"  
She pouted and turned back to Shiro, "I'm sorry, I have to go."  
"I completely understand. I suppose you have much to do tomorrow, I understand you're a busy woman."  
"But..." She grinned up at him, "How about I tell you about all the things I like at dinner?"  
He froze, processed this, then let out a little laugh. It was a mix of relief and gratitude, "Of course. Yes. I'd really like that, yes."  
She smiled and walked to the bar, asked for a pen, and walked back to the table where Shiro was. She wrote her number on a napkin, and ended it with a little heart.  
"Here you go, my number. Call me whenever you deem appropriate."  
"Thank you, but I didn't catch your name." Shiro said.  
"Oh, how rude of me! And I didn't get yours! My name is—"  
"Come on, we gotta go!" Pidge called, "Come or you gotta take the bus!"  
The white haired girl slid off the chair and called to him, "I'm sorry, I have to go!"  
And she was gone like that. He didn't even know her name. And she didn't even know his name. He didn't even know her name, but he found his thoughts repeating the same thing— I think I'm in love.  
In the car, the white haired girl was quiet in the back seat as Esperanza and Pidge loudly sang along to the radio, and the only thing she could think about was how charming that man was. How strong he looked, how gentle yet firm her was...  
-  
"Is she not arriving for this appointment again?" Zues grumbled.  
Zues was the nickname for the plaintiff's lawyer. The plaintiff was Mr. Fred Johnson, who was accusing the defendant, a woman named Allura, of murdering his wife.  
"I'm sure she'll be here soon. She's five minutes." Shiro said calmly.  
"Five minutes, Mister Shirogane—"  
"I told you. These good for nothing nig—"  
"Please, sir." Shiro stopped Mr. Johnson, "The courthouse doesn't approve of that word."  
"Who said?"  
"I said."  
That shut him up.  
Then they heard loud, light clacking footsteps coming from outside of the huge oak doors, and then they were both pushed open.  
"I'm here! I'm here!" The woman exclaimed, panting, holding hands with a child.  
Shiro's eyes widened. She had short, curly white hair. She has a pretty slim but curvy body. Dark skin. That smile was unmistakably hers. "You're... the girl from the lounge... you're...."  
"Mr. Takashi Shirogane?" The woman asked, out of breath.  
"Allura Sanchez?" Shiro's voice had a sharp edge to it.  
"You two know eachother?" Zues asked.  
"Yes."  
"No."  
They both looked at eachother with fear and confusion.  
"And why is your child with you?"  
"His school had a day off— I couldn't find him a babysitter in time. I had to bring him with." She explained, her eyebrows drawn together with worry, but she slowly started composing herself.  
"And your probation officer?"  
"He's—"  
"Right here." A man with ginger hair and a dramatic mustache walked in calmly.  
"Hmph, well then, let's get started—"  
"Do you have a book?" She asked softly. Not intimidated or scared, just softly.  
"I—" Zues looked enraged and speechless.  
Allura's heeled footsteps made a calming knock on the wooden floor with each step as she walked to his desk and slid a heavy book off. It was a heavy book that every attorney must have at all times; Shiro had it too. It was a book full of rights and offenses and procedures in a trial, it was heavy, probably as big as a bible.  
She turned around, her yellow pencil skirt giving her a pretty figure as it moved with her body beautifully, she bent down and give it to her son, "Lance, mijito, sit outside the room, at the benches, and read this book. Then come tell me when you've found the word 'cheese' six times."  
Her son marveled at the book, then looked up with determined eyes and said, "Okay!"  
He ran out and her probation officer shut the door behind the small boy.  
Allura took a seat next to Shiro's desk as she fixed up one more button on her pretty white blouse.  
The silence made Shiro want to scream, but like all of the time, he kept himself composed. Oh, but Allura's eyes were enough to kill. She stared down at the man who accused her of a crime, who stared at the ground, unable to meet anyone's eyes.  
"We want to know the story. Both sides," Zues sighed, "So Mr. Johnson and I will leave, and we'll leave you two to your own devices."  
The two men stood up and, whispering to eachother.  
"Coran, can you step outside for a minutes, please?" Allura said, refusing to meet either man's eyes.  
"My job is to stay with you at all times—"  
"Coran, please," She whispered, "He knows."  
"Oh... Alright then." Coran, her probation officer nodded then stepped outside.  
Then Shiro regained his posture and Allura stood up.  
"What is this?" He whispered at her.  
"I don't know. I didn't know your name last night, I shouldnt even have been there— I'm sorry."  
"No, Allura, don't apologize. Don't do that, just..." He couldn't get his thoughts together, "You're this woman? You're the one accused?"  
"I am. I am accused, but I am not a murderer. I passed the scene of the incident thirty seconds after a woman was shot blindly by some lowlife in a gang." Allura put her hand on her face, worried, "I cannot believe I didn't recognize you. The lawyer of Colored Chicago."  
"I can't believe I couldn't recognize you, Allura Sanchez. The organizer of the biggest protests in Chicago," Shiro let a soft smile appear on his face, "An admirable figure."  
She smiled, "Still as charming as ever I see."  
No, no, no. He said in his head, he remembered what law school had taught him every single day for years— do not fall in love with you client.  
He cleared his throat, "I think we should get to work."  
"Yes. I agree." She remembered as well. She's taking the classes he once took. She understood. Lawyers cannot fall in love with their clients.  
"Tell me everything that happened. Do not let a single detail pass you by, and tell the whole truth, please."  
"I know."  
"I know you know," He flashed her a little smile, "Just procedure."  
She tried not to groan, for he was too cute.  
"Okay, I was going to the store with Lance, my son," She added a little awkwardly, "And we were walking back, then I heard gunshots, screams, and yelling and running. I told Lance to be quiet, and we both stood in place. We heard running behind us and I slowly turned around and saw a group of four men in black masks and gloves sprinting away. They were dressed in all black. One of them looked at us and threw a gun right in front of me, and then when Lance and I were leaving, we heard screaming and before I knew it Mr. Johnson called the cops on me."  
"Okay..." Shiro sighed, "Okay. What came first, the screaming? Or the yelling?"  
"First it was a gunshot, then some screaming, then the men ran behind us and then the Mr. Johnson found me."  
"Hmmm... what time was it?"  
"It was about eleven at night."  
"The store, is it far from your house?"  
"No, just about a ten minute walk."  
"Do you have a receipt? From what you bought at the store?"  
Allura bit her lip and kept quiet.  
"Allura, please, you have to tell me."  
She didn't cry, but her voice cracked for a sliver of a second, "I told Lance we didn't need it and to throw it to the ground."  
He understood why this hit her so hard. She told her son, the most important person in the entire world to her to throw out the thing that could've solved this entire case in a second. He also knew why she wanted to cry, because as hard as she tried to tell herself it wasn't his fault, she couldn't help but blame Lance.  
"Hey, it's alright," Shiro said, softly, "It's not anyone's fault. Nothing could've prepared you for what was going to happen."  
"You're right," Allura shook her head, her curls bouncing around her head. He wondered how soft they were, "I'm sorry. You're right."  
"Hey, I know how you feel. I have a boy at home too."  
"You too?" This made her smile.  
"Yes, his name's Keith. He's nine and if you met him i'm pretty sure you'd be convinced he's not even my kid."  
She laughed.  
She laughed and at that moment Shiro knew he wanted to keep making her laugh until the sun was no more.  
Too bad his chances of that were slim to none.  
He cleared his throat, getting himself together, "Anything else you may want to add?"  
"Er, yes." She said, gaining her serious atmosphere back, "The men running, they weren't black men in a gang. They were white."  
"What?" Shiro was suddenly alert, "I'm sorry? Did you say they were white? They were wearing masks. It was the nighttime."  
"We were in the middle of the street, so we were right under a streetlight. When the man who threw the gun looked at me, his eyes were blue and his eyelids were white. My eyes were not playing tricks on me, Shiro."  
"How was his wife? I mean, did you see her body? Where she died?"  
"No. I don't know if Lance did, though."  
"How?"  
"When the man woke up the entire neighborhood with his screaming, a flood of people came outside before the police arrived. I gave him my keys and I told Lance to run back home by cutting through the backyards."  
"So you left your child at home? Alone?"  
"Of course not. I called Pidge from the jail and told her to pick Lance up."  
"Another question: You should technically be in jail. I got a couple people to bend the rules, and I got stuck with a 'probation officer'. I'm technically under house arrest, and I'm only allowed to take Lance to school, Go to work, go to school, and go to the store. For all of that, Coran has to be with me."  
"Huh. How, if i may ask?"  
"My uncle works with the police, he talked to the higher ups, then to a judge who I'm pretty sure will be taking care of this case, and I got stuck with a probation officer. Coran is nice, though. He's very kind. Him and Lance have even grown attached to each other." She smiled softly.  
"How were you at the Lounge the other day?"  
"Please don't tell anyone, but Coran lets me go out on some nights and sing to make some money on the side, and to have fun once in a while."  
"I'm glad he does."  
"So am I."  
Allura stood up, then Shiro.  
"Are we done?"  
"I believe so."  
"Then let's go outside. My son awaits."  
Shiro held the door open for Allura who thanked him, and immediately her mouth turned into a smile.  
"Mami, I only found the word cheese twice..." Lance looked close to tears.  
"Oh, mi amor," She picked Lance up and hugged him.  
Shiro marveled at the strength of such a small woman. God, could she get any more wonderful?  
"It's okay. You tried at least."  
Lance rested his head on his mother's shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. He stared at Shiro to the point where felt a little uncomfortable.  
Lance has brown freckles on his dark skin that was only a few shades lighter than his mother. He had brown curly hair and big, brown eyes that were alive and full of life just like his mother's.  
"Well give me a ring when you need to, Mister Shirogane." She turned around and winked as she ignored Coran, who was talking to her about her talking about her work schedule.  
He blushed and saw her go down the stairs and watched as Lance's brown hair and Allura's white hair disappeared.  
He looked ahead until he heard another door open, and Zues and Mr. Johnson stepped out of the office next to the one Shiro and Allura were in.  
"Afternoon." Shiro nodded towards them.  
Mr. Johnson gave him a dirty look, and Zues only grumbled something in return.  
Both men talked for a minute or two on the stairs then said their farewells, then Mr. Johnson headed down the stairs.  
Downstairs, Mr. Johnson and Allura found themselves staring eachother down. Once outside, he did the thing she least expected as she walked down the street holding her son's hand with Coran walking behind her.  
He turned, spit in her face, and said in a low voice, "Ni**er."  
Allura froze in place, but the man continued to shamelessly walk.  
"Allura, please—"  
"Lance, you want to see the nice statues they have in the courthouse?"  
"Mami, why did he do that—?"  
"Coran, please," Her hand was clenched into a fist and was shaking aggressively, "Take Lance inside."  
"I..." He gave up; he knew better. "Get him, Miss."  
When she heard the door of the courtroom close and Coran and Lance's voices both abruptly disappear, she threw her purse to the ground and ran up to tackle the man from behind.  
"Ack!" He let out a strained sound as she wrestled him to the ground and began punching him in the face as hard as she could, making a grunt with each impact.  
People began to gather around them on the sidewalk, chanting and yelling and cheering in the cold. This went on for a minute as the man clawed at her face and screamed at her more racist and vulgar things in an attempt to get her off. The blood on her hands warmed them, and the blood starting to run down her face from a long scratch began to burn against the cold.  
"You don't get to call me that!" Another punch to his temple.  
"You don't get to call me that!" She shoved his knee deeper into his stomach, but found herself getting pulled off as the screaming got louder, "Let me go! Let me go!"  
She was being carried back no, kicking, for this person holding her was so strong and hard, she felt like a child as she continued screaming, "You don't get to call me that, you disgusting piece of shit!"  
Zues was kneeling next to Mr. Johnson, and tended to him but he was angrily holding his nose and pointing at Allura, screaming things she couldn't hear because of all the commotion around her and the blood coursing through her ears and her hammering heart.  
"Allura! Allura!" Shiro said against her ears, trying to get her to calm down, "Please," His lips grazed her ear, "Calm down. You've said it yourself— he's nothing. He's white trash. He doesn't deserve to be touched by you, remember this."  
She settled down against his chest, in a state that reminded her of being drunk. She regained her balance on her low heels, and he let her go slowly, making sure she could stand. Everyone looked at her with silent anticipation, but all she did was walk forward.  
"Oh hell no, get the fuck away from me..." Mr. Johnson began, but he trailed off when Allura silently passed him and turned to look at herself in the window of a candy shop. She fixed her curls, cleaned up some of the blood on her face from the scratches with the sleeves of her white blouse. There wasn't much she could do about the dirt and blood on her skirt and shirt, though.  
She turned around and walked back into the courthouse, then walked back out holding her son's hand with Coran walking behind them.  
Mr. Johnson was standing now, and was silent as she passed. The whole small crowd on the sidewalk was silent as they watched her pass, completely unfazed from what had just happened a couple of minutes ago.  
As she walked away, she held up her middle finger in the air, and Shiro wondered if he could be falling any harder for this woman.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this thank you for reading ! The song Allura sings is called Pomegranate Tree by Chicano Batman, the best band probably ever.


End file.
